Pretty Wonderings
by SecretlyAnonymous04
Summary: Otogi is pretty, say most of the girls. He also has two scars on his left cheek that they whisper about when he can't hear them. Anzu tries to ignore all of this but is soon forced to realize that this is what Otogi is all about – the scars under the pretty face.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Pretty Wonderings

**Author:** SecretlyAnonymous04

**Summary:** Otogi is pretty, say most of the girls. He also has two scars on his left cheek that they whisper about when he can't hear them. Anzu tries to ignore all of this but is soon forced to realize that this is what Otogi is all about – the scars under the pretty face.

**Warnings:** Hints and mentions of past abuse and sexual assault.

**Timeline:** A few months after Otogi's arc.

**Author's note:** I recently had to take an online course about sexual assault and abusive relationships among other things. I got two important points out of it: first, sexual assault has absolutely nothing to do with how the victim looks or dresses and everyone has the same probability of being assaulted, and two, women are not the only victims of rape. And this is how this fic was born. I considered Otogi to be the perfect candidate for both of the two above points and built the rest of the story around his past.

Another thing before I wrap this up. This is based more on the manga than the anime. I used the Japanese names because they sounded more personal to me. All you need to know is that Otogi's dad is not someone nice, that we see him slapping his son around for losing a small bet against Yugi at school then later hear him belittling him horribly when he starts to lose against Yugi at his own game. (That really got to me. Somehow, I took that, tweaked it a little, and this thing pretty much wrote itself out after that.) Also, I let Otogi's father burn to death in the fire that almost killed Yugi. Believe me, he deserves it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!

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**Part One of Two**

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Otogi has two scars on his left cheek.

They're faint and small, easily overlooked if one doesn't look too closely. It's a blessing that Yugi is short enough to be spared the sight, and he remains blissfully unaware in his innocence although he'd been the only witness amongst their group to the dynamic between Otogi and his father.

But Anzu, Jounouchi and Honda notice. They share worried looks when Otogi's back is turned and their gazes linger a moment too long on him when his silky black strands reveal the lines marring his skin.

The fan girls either don't notice or consider the scars an addition to his charm.

"It's exciting that such a mysterious guy transferred to our school," one girl tells her friend in the bathroom during Algebra class. Anzu is leaning against the door, grateful that the hallway is clear when class is in session so no one will see her expression when she swallows down bile – there's nothing _exciting_ about this.

The second girl – Hinata, Anzu thinks her name is – sighs with an inflection so tragic it might as well be her who'd been permanently marked. "And have you seen his eyes? I don't know what I like more, the eyes or the hair."

"He's very pretty," the other adds. Anzu doesn't know her name, but after today she will find out.

"It's a shame, though…" Hinata trails off.

"What is?" There is the distinct sound of a soft 'plop' as lipstick is carefully reapplied.

"He is very pretty," Hinata concedes warily. "But you've seen the…"

"…Ah, yes. Well, no one is perfect."

"But he could at least make an effort to cover them," Hinata carries on, and Anzu catches herself unconsciously fisting her hands until her nails harshly dig into her palms. "I mean, make up wasn't only made for women. I bet it wouldn't take five minutes of his time, and then I wouldn't have to feel so sad each time I see them."

A pause. "It _is_ sad, Hinata-san."

Anzu stifles a grunt. She almost respects the nameless girl for the genuine emotion in her voice.

Hinata hums in agreement. "I wonder what kind of story there's behind them."

A dreamy sigh. "You just have to love a guy with a sad story. But you could always ask him if you're so curious."

"Or you could," Hinata retorts.

"If I do, he'll never talk to me again. Besides, I like the mystery of it. I _do_ wonder how he got them, though. But I don't like the rumors much."

"The rumors," Hinata snorts. "They say it was his father."

Anzu's heart skips a beat.

The other girl makes a noise between disgust and protest. Silence falls for a second before Hinata continues: "How else then? In a fight?"

There's a snort of something that, sickeningly enough, resembles laughter. "He's way too conceited to fight, you know that. I'd be almost disappointed if someone as pretty as him ruined himself voluntarily."

"Better than the alternative," Hinata points out in a suggestive tone.

"…You don't really believe that-"

Anzu has enough then. She bursts in, not bothering to hide the blaze raging in her blue eyes. The two girls, standing by the sinks, one leaning against the counter while the other faces the mirror, look up in surprise.

"Anzu-san," Hinata greets warily. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

Anzu forces her voice to remain neutral. "I found something more interesting than algebra to listen to."

She forces herself to walk into a stall rather than punch one of them in the face – Jounouchi's manners are tainting on her – and inhales deeply to calm herself. She takes an extra two minutes inside before slowly unlocking the door and stepping out.

The girls are still standing by the sinks.

"Anzu-san," the one she will later learn is called Yuna starts in a small voice. "You won't tell Otogi-kun, will you?"

Anzu closes her eyes. She'd hoped that she was mistaken and they were speaking of someone else.

"She was eavesdropping," Hinata accuses with a hard glare that reveals no guilt or shame. "Don't be so lenient with her."

Yuna glances uncertainly towards her friend. Anzu washes her hands three times before she feels confident enough in herself to speak. "I'm not in the habit of saddening my friends," she practically spits.

Yuna recoils. "I am his friend, too."

Anzu gives her such a dark look that the girl immediately drops her head in shame. Great – now it's Kaiba Seto that Anzu is channeling.

Hinata smirks lazily. "Friends, you say? I didn't see you sitting with him during lunch yesterday."

Anzu opens her mouth to retort. And closes it. Yugi's grandfather had loaned them a new game that was supposed to be released next week, and they'd taken the lunch hour yesterday to try it out. Jounouchi wanted to become the game champion before anyone could beat him to it. And in the excitement, they had forgotten to invite Otogi to play.

Anzu collects herself and reaches for some towel paper. "I don't speak about my friends behind their back. Don't drag me into this." She moves to leave then stops at the door. "And Hinata-san?" She waits for the other girl to look up. "There's nothing shameful about the scars."

Anzu leaves behind the two stunned girls and, once she's alone in the hallway, wipes away a stray tear.

She makes it a point to sit next to Otogi at lunch that day. Unfortunately, Bakura has already taken a seat on the same bench and Anzu finds herself on Otogi's left side, where the scars are unavoidable. They're so short they could be mistaken for scratches, but they will never fade away, and the streak of dark mascara running down Otogi's cheek only accentuates their paleness against his tanned skin. Contrary to the two girls in the bathroom, Anzu doesn't want to know how he got them. She doesn't want to think of someone slapping him, of a ring scratching against his skin, of Yugi speaking with horror and pity about Otogi's dead father. Her stomach roils with nausea and Otogi, bless his soul, turns to her in worry when he notices that she hasn't touched her food.

"Are you alright, Anzu-san?" he asks. His green eyes are a dark shade, swirling like a bottomless pit, shining like precious jewels. Anzu can see the appeal, can understand the admiration that most girls in the school hold for him. She just wishes that they would consider him first because of his achievements rather than for his "pretty" face.

"I'm fine," she lies, because he doesn't need to know how hard her heart aches for him. She doesn't need to tell him that "pretty" is a curse. He already knows. "I'm fine," she repeats and tries to convince herself.

She tells no one of her run-in with the girls. She stares at Otogi's smile, at his eyes, and at his scars. Otogi doesn't notice, and if he does he makes no mention of it to her. Anzu watches him entertaining the girls flocking to him with a carefree manner, watches him swagger through the hallways and grab the attention of most of the student-body, watches as his shoulders slump downwards when he thinks no one is looking – he knows better, Anzu realizes, he knows someone is always looking at him, he just doesn't care anymore – because there was a time when he wanted someone – anyone – to see him, and his wish is fulfilled now that it's too late.

Anzu almost shares her concerns with Yugi but refrains. There is still a part of innocence in Yugi that she doesn't want to see destroyed because it is that light that soothes all of his friends' souls. She can't destroy that because she was unable to bear this burden. If Otogi can do it, then so can she.

A few days later, Jounouchi is caught up in a fight as he is wont to do sometime during the school year. They're in a busy street, surprisingly enough, and some guy from the neighboring school has insulted him. Anzu has seen Jounouchi's temper rise at any occasion, justifiable or not, and he doesn't disappoint. Unfortunately, the whole group is there, including Otogi and Bakura, and they all stay a good distance away as Honda holds the hot-headed blond back.

"They're not worth it," Honda tells his friend, but Jounouchi's eyes are alight with a fire that will only be quenched once his fists are bloody.

Aito, the leader of the other troop and instigator of this mess, smirks lazily. "Why, Jounouchi, you let this guy hold you down? Hanging out with children and girls ought to have shrunk your spunk along with your brain."

Anzu can't even guess at the effort that Honda is applying to keep Jounouchi from storming forward – there's nothing the blond despises more than insults directed at his friends. Somewhere behind Aito, a katana is raised. Anzu barely catches the flash of brown before Jounouchi escapes Honda's hold and darts towards Aito to smash his jaw.

The katana falls towards him. Anzu's strangled cry catches in her throat. Jounouchi sees the weapon coming, but even when he stops he is already in its path and not graceful enough to avoid it now. Not graceful enough, not fast enough, not-

A hand latches onto the wood and scarlet drops stain the concrete. Aito and his goons' eyes are wide in surprise. Jounouchi, hunched over in expectance of a heavy blow, takes a peek between his arms, wondering why he is yet standing. Bewildered, he rises and his gaze meets Otogi's back. Anzu stares, her eyes darting to the side where she could swear that Otogi was less than a second ago. But now, he stands in front of his friend, a playful smirk on his lips.

He is barely aware of the blood running down his hand.

"I bet you think yourself very clever," he drawls in that same irritating suave voice that Anzu knows is just a cover. "A shame that your smartest move is still a failure."

He pushes the katana away but his wristband catches the edge of the weapon and rips in two, slipping to the ground where his blood is still fresh.

Honda breathes a sigh of relief but Anzu raises a hand to her chest in concern when she sees the unhealthy light in Aito's eyes.

"Nice moves," he sneers, leering indecently at the boy standing in front of him. A beat passes before he spits at Otogi, who doesn't blink as the saliva lands on his jaw and splatters against his neck. "I would have never guessed that a doll like you could have other uses than looking pretty. Besides the obvious, of course."

Otogi doesn't reply. His eyes are glassy, his expression stony. Aito extends his arm towards him, to which Jounouchi gives an indignant "Hey!", but he only brushes away one of Otogi's stray strands of hair and caresses his cheek with mock tenderness. Through it all, Otogi remains motionless. With a last jeering laugh, the group walks away. Anzu doesn't dare move before they're completely out of sight.

Jounouchi and Honda are standing at Otogi's side now. The boy is barely responsive, his eyes still trained on the other end of the street. Finally, he replies to Jounouchi's vehement calls and Anzu can see him slowly nodding his head. She steps towards them, heart hammering against her chest, and urges Bakura and Yugi to stay behind in case either of their other halves decide to avenge them with a penalty game. When she's close enough to distinctly hear the others, pain spikes through her chest at Otogi's empty tone.

"I'm fine," he says with little conviction. Anzu wonders if the lie was so obvious when she'd spoken those same words days earlier. "But you should be more careful Jounouchi-kun."

"He's right," Honda agrees with a scowl. "You could have been badly hurt, man."

Jounouchi rubs his neck with a frustrated frown and drops his gaze. A second later, he crouches down and picks up Otogi's ripped wristband. "I'm sorry for this," he finally says.

Anzu, however, is focused on the blood still dripping to the sidewalk. "Otogi-kun," she breathes worriedly. Only then do they notice her and she doesn't hesitate to take Otogi's hand and examine the wound ripping open his palm.

"This looks like it needs stitches," Honda remarks.

Jounouchi sighs. "I'm sorry, you're right. This was dangerous. I'm sorry you got hurt Otogi-kun, it's just… you know me! I can't take an insult."

Otogi tries to smile. The trail of saliva is now running down his throat to his collar but he doesn't seem to notice it. Anzu would have cleaned it for him but she's too focused on his hand. Her eyes inadvertently trail downwards and her knees almost cave in shock. Around his wrist, where his colorful bands are usually securely tied, thin white lines are jaggedly etched onto his skin. Their location and shape are strange enough that Anzu's first concern is if he was purposefully hiding them. She berates herself for the thought. Of course, he would hide them; no scar could be considered nice enough to look at, and those were particularly harsh looking. How did Otogi get them?

When the thought crosses her mind, she almost recoils. But dropping his arm now, when the scars are so exposed, would only draw the others' attention. Instead, she presses her fingers around his wrist and wonders if a similar secret is concealed under the wristband on his other arm. Otogi turns back to her at the unexpected touch and tenses when he guesses what she's seen. Anzu stares into his eyes, hoping she is wrong, but the darkness buried under layers of green only confirms her fears.

Numbly, she relaxes her grip then drops his arm. Otogi's gaze doesn't leave her, full of apprehension and fear. He thinks she will expose him, Anzu realizes. He is worried that she will reveal his secrets to their friends.

"I'll accompany you to the emergency room, Otogi-kun," she says, to which he only marginally relaxes.

"I'll come too," Yugi adds. Anzu doesn't know when he came to stand at her side. Eyes wide with panic, she turns to Otogi. But Yugi can't have seen the scars when Anzu was holding the boy's arm at eye-level. Bakura, on the other hand, gazes at Otogi with sad brown eyes and doesn't comment.

Otogi relents only because he fears Jounouchi and Honda will accompany him instead. Anzu has wrapped his hand with one of her handkerchiefs and keeps a worried eye on him. His collar is wet and his neck slick with a mix of sweat and saliva. She realizes he still hasn't cleaned Aito's parting gift.

She wonders how he can be so comfortable with – so used to – the wet trail down his throat to forget about it.

Once they reach the emergency room, Anzu and Yugi are asked to wait for Otogi to be treated. Anzu is patient enough during the first twenty minutes, still reeling from her earlier discovery. Ten minutes later, her mind is whirling with panic, because getting stitches cannot possibly take that long. As innocently as she can, she informs Yugi that she needs to go to the restroom, and in typical fashion he blushes and nods without comment. Anzu retraces her steps back to the emergency room where a confused nurse reports that Otogi was released five minutes ago.

Anzu thanks her with a sinking heart. She wanders the nearest corridors, hesitant to call for Otogi lest she attract unwanted attention. Ironically enough, it's in the restroom that she finds him. She hears him first, though – there's the sound of violent retching in one abandoned hallway. Anzu hesitantly knocks on the restroom door and the room beyond goes suddenly quiet.

"Yugi?" someone rasps inside.

Anzu barely recognizes his voice but it's undeniably him. She swallows and clenches her eyelids shut. "It's Anzu," she says as steadily as she can. "Are you alright?"

There's a slight hesitation before Otogi answers. "Yeah. Give me a minute."

Anzu counts till forty-three before the door opens and Otogi appears, as collected as ever, a smile plastered on his face. He leans against the doorway in what Anzu supposes is a relaxed pose, with a hand against the wall. She wonders if he realizes how vulnerable he looks in that moment. One week ago, Anzu wouldn't have realized it too. But so much has happened in one week that she finds herself more interested in Otogi than she's ever been.

"It's the hospital smell," Otogi explains, and his nose crinkles in a manner so endearing it only adds to his inescapable charm. "I never get used to it."

Anzu nods then freezes. Otogi, too, seems to be assimilating the words that just escaped his lips and the calmness melts off him for an instant before he replaces it with bitter resignation. It's almost more attractive than the charm.

_You just have to love a guy with a sad story._

It's true. Otogi's melancholy is more appealing than all the other expressions that he tries to summon to cover his misery. That is so ironic Anzu wants to laugh.

But she can't. Not after understanding the implications of Otogi's statement. Not when she suddenly realizes that scars implicate wounds, and that some of those were serious enough to warrant professional help. She tries to recall her darkest memory, her darkest hour, and she can't come up with something remotely as horrifying as enduring such pain and… and _humiliation_ from a parent – from a father.

Anzu wants to ask. She wants to know for how long, and why. She wants to know why his wrists are so badly damaged. She wants to know why he covers them and not the scars on his cheek. She wants to know if it was rope or leather that chaffed around his wrists. She wants to know if he bled because he was struggling to escape or because his-

Anzu cuts the thought off with a disgusted shiver. She raises her eyes to meet Otogi's devastated expression.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispers, pleads, and his delicate tone brings again unwanted images to Anzu's mind. She wants to ask him where he learned to beg.

Slowly, carefully, she takes his arm – the one without the wristband. She trails her fingertips above the scars, completely aware of how tense he has become.

"I'm so sorry, Otogi-kun," she finally says, because she has no other words that can express her feelings. Anzu gives optimistic friendship speeches. She doesn't know how to remedy _this_.

She doesn't think she can.

"Just let go," Otogi asks – begs again. "Please, just let go."

He almost chokes on the words and Anzu abruptly releases him. The memories must have been too much – the blood, the leering comments, the hospital. He turns back to the restroom and closes the door. Anzu hears him retching again. She hesitates only for a second before stepping in. She finds him leaning heavily against the toilet seat, dark hair matted against his sweaty forehead, his body violently lurching as he empties his stomach.

Anzu's motherly instincts take over and she kneels next to him while rubbing his back soothingly. She tenderly brushes away his hair as he heaves, her own stomach rolling uncomfortably. Finally, it's over and Otogi raises his head, avoiding her gaze. When he turns away, he reveals the left side of his face and Anzu is almost unsurprised when she realizes that his tears run directly along the dark mascara dropping from his eye.

She waits silently for him to collect himself, unable to summon adequate words. Finally, Otogi stands, albeit shakily, and he insists on leaving before he finds himself on his knees in front of the toilet seat again. From his tone, Anzu nauseously wonders which he despises more – hugging the porcelain chair or kneeling.

Yugi is suspicious when they finally reach him, but the partial truth they deliver satisfies his curiosity. Anzu doesn't miss the worried looks he sends Otogi and the inquisitive glances he directs at her as they walk home. Otogi crosses the street with a wave in their direction, while Anzu joins Yugi in his house to avoid watching the other boy go back to that shop.

"Is he alright?" Yugi asks a few minutes after they've collapsed on the couch in exhaustion.

"He says he is," Anzu replies, the only truth she can provide. Later, she asks: "Does he live alone in that store?"

Yugi thinks for a moment. "I was over there the other day because of a delivery mistake. I don't think I saw more than one bedroom. But some of the employees don't leave until late at night."

Anzu nods and marvels at how far Yugi's innocence runs.

If there is only one bedroom, where did Otogi sleep when his father was still alive?

Anzu too doesn't believe in rumors. But this was becoming uncomfortably close to the truth.

She tries to forget in the following months. Otogi's scars nag at her mind and her worry never ceases, but she makes an effort to gaze at him with anything other than pity. The others don't take notice, though they've always whispered behind Otogi's back even before Anzu's eyes have been opened.

"I don't know if we should talk to him about it," Honda says one day. They're sitting under a tree after class, watching Yugi and Otogi duel on a nearby picnic table. Otogi had fallen asleep in the shade and when they'd tried shaking him awake half an hour later he'd awoken in a panic, eyes wild and limbs flailing. Yugi had overlooked the situation with the ever-present prospect of a duel and Otogi had accepted to avoid the others' looks.

Jounouchi puts his head in his hands. "What're you gonna say? You don't ask me about my drunk father without meeting my fist. How do you plan to ask him about _that_?"

Honda falls silent.

The boys are not oblivious to the situation. It's a few days later that they hit the showers after PE and take turns to watch each other's gym bags. Jounouchi comes in late and sits at the bench where he recognizes his friends' clothes. The two students who'd helped him clean the gymnasium for extra credit – that Jounouchi only needs because he's a loud fool who comes late to class – sit in the opposite corner, and a while later their hushed whispers attract his attention.

"It's a shame the girls lock the door behind them," one says.

"Yeah. What does a guy have to do for a good piece of ass around here?"

Jounouchi turns away. Shizuka's laughing face emerges between his thoughts and he imagines how bad these guys would be hurting if they ever dared to touch her.

"You know," the first one starts again, with a malevolent tone so low Jounouchi almost doesn't hear him. "We don't need the girls for that. I mean… there could be other options."

His eyes dart suggestively to one of the showers and Jounouchi automatically follows his gaze. His blood freezes when he sees the red bandana hanging from the door. The two young men share sickening grins and Jounouchi clenches his fists in preparation for a fight.

"He does have a girl's face," one comments.

"And the way he walks? He's begging for it. I don't think they teach that outside of cabarets."

Jounouchi doesn't want to know – he doesn't want to know where and why Otogi learned to walk that way, to laugh, to dress, to act that way.

The boys' eyes are now on him. Jounouchi flexes his muscles, in a show of strength as much as to let some of the tension escape. He wonders where Honda is, because he doesn't think he can hold back two guys, not after the session they've had. And Otogi… he'd fall right back into the pattern just like he had with Aito. Jounouchi can already imagine the vacant look in his eyes, the limpness of his limbs-

The door opens. Honda peeks in, already dressed, and gives him a grin. Jounouchi only relaxes minutely and his friend takes notice. A glance at the other side of the locker room is enough for the situation to become obvious – Honda doesn't know the reason yet, but it's apparently a good one to smash these guys.

The sound of water hitting the tiles dissipates. Four heads turn to the showers as the red bandana disappears and the door opens. Otogi doesn't falter under the attention – his fan girls' only use is that he gets used to the looks. With a long towel hanging from his waist, he steps into the locker room, the movement of his hips more prominent because of the lack of clothing. When he bends down to retrieve his shoes, Jounouchi hears a low whistle from the other side of the room. He looks to the side to see Otogi's eyes flick upwards but that's his only reaction. He picks up his clothes at a leisurely pace, his hair plastered against his shoulders where fragile droplets accumulate before smoothly rolling down his back.

Otogi is trapped, Jounouchi thinks. He keeps his back to the other boys not because he's trying to hide but because he knows either side of him will cause a reaction and he'd rather not witness it. Finally, he disappears behind a curtain to dress and Jounouchi feels free to crack one of his knuckles.

"Keep an eye on them," he mutters.

Honda nods, his features twisted into an enraged scowl.

Jounouchi steps into a shower and lets the steam blow against his face. He wonders when he started defending Otogi. It wasn't that long ago that he'd despised him for the attention that his good looks garnered. Now, he thinks that maybe Otogi despises himself for that too.

If Otogi's jacket is buttoned up when they exit the locker room, if his dice earring is missing and some of the swagger has bled away from him as he walks out, neither Jounouchi nor Honda comment on it.

The winter ball falls on December twenty-first. The gymnasium is decorated during long grueling hours by a group of students who doubt that their efforts will be recompensed. Anzu applies a last touch of make up before leaning away from the mirror to study her reflection. It's good enough by her standards, and those are all that matter seeing as none of her friends asked her to be their date. She can't hold it against Yugi or Bakura, they're just too shy to make the first move and Anzu doesn't want to embarrass them by proposing. Honda and Jounouchi, on the other hand, have no excuse and they had better be well-dressed at least because she will not be seen walking in with two slobs.

When she bids her parents good night and steps out, it's not the cab she called that Anzu sees. Otogi is leaning back against his convertible, hands in his pockets, smartly dressed in a well-tailored suit. Unrestricted by a tie, his collar falls open, revealing the leather necklaces that fall across his chest. His hair is up in its usual ponytail but the bandana is missing so that his bangs fall across his eyes. Anzu's heart skips a beat and she remains frozen on her doorstep for a long moment.

"I was told you didn't have a date," Otogi starts with an honest smile. "I thought that was unacceptable for a lady of your beauty and… well, here I am."

Anzu stares at him, frozen by his words, his look, his face. The girls are right – he is terribly pretty. But in her silence, Otogi falters and his smile is rapidly replaced by a grimace. She can almost see the shame creeping into his eyes.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," he says, voice only slightly wavering. "I thought-"

"I'm very flattered," Anzu intervenes, because she can't allow him to think that his initiative is anything less than welcome. He deserves – needs – this much more than she does. "It was very thoughtful of you," she continues as she walks to the car. "Thank you for coming."

Otogi's seductive smile is back though he knows that won't work on her. He grasps her hand delicately and plants a kiss on her knuckles. "Shall we?" he asks.

Anzu nods with a playful smile of her own and manages to gather the tail of her blue dress below the seat before closing the door. A rush of adrenaline runs through her when the motor roars and soon they're on their way, the wind whipping through their hair and against their faces with breathtaking speed.

"Nice car," she comments. "I didn't know you had a license."

"A lot of concessions are made for special situations," Otogi replies.

Anzu uncomfortably remembers, then, that he's his own legal guardian at age sixteen and curses herself for asking.

"So you _do_ know how to drive," Anzu teases, keeping her voice light.

Otogi smirks, his fingers deftly manipulating the steering wheel, and the motor roars into the night.

The courtyard is brimming with students sporting the most varied styles and colors that Anzu has ever encountered at one event. Otogi leads the way to the gymnasium – commonly called the Ball Room during parties – and goes as far as holding the door for her. Anzu thinks their friends might have bet on whether Otogi would be able to seduce her in one night – the only girl that has yet to fall for his charm. Except that Otogi's performance is heavy with respect and politeness rather than excessively shallow.

When he leads her in, Anzu understands why. Many girls glare at her and whisper amongst each other so obviously that Anzu's cheeks redden in place of theirs. Some look actually brokenhearted and Anzu stares at Otogi in realization. He'd refused to accompany all those girls and used her as his excuse. Anzu would have been angry were it not for the deeply apologetic look on his face. She lets it slide because she knows any other girl would have ruined his night – and because he was still the only one of her friends to invite her, albeit at the last minute.

She understands the reason behind that soon too. Jounouchi and Honda are unnecessarily excited to see them approaching together, going as far as stuffing them into the photo booth for a good five minutes. It's a fun moment that she'll remember fondly, she has to admit, surrounded by her friends who soon join them in the too small cabin. Anzu stashes the roll of pictures in her purse, standing alone long enough for Honda to give her a meaningful look without attracting the others' attention.

They were planning this, Anzu realizes. They wanted her to go with Otogi. She wonders if they pushed him to invite her or if he really was outraged by her lack of formal male companionship that night. She surprises herself thinking that Honda and Jounouchi's protectiveness is not too far from the one they exhibit with Shizuka. She feels guilty for even thinking of Otogi in those terms – a damsel in distress.

The party is a success. The students never let the mood sink, too full of energy and excitement to stop going wild for even a second. To Anzu's delight, Otogi reveals himself a great dancer and she drags him to the dance floor with excitement. She's rarely had such a good partner outside of dancing classes. His moves are as smooth and fluid as hers, his hands on the exact spot on her hips, leading with a confidence that she admires in him.

Their friends watch from their table. Yugi and Bakura have almost pulled out their decks for a duel and even Joey has to admit that's a bit excessive.

"They're nerds," Honda teases with a grin. "This isn't their kind of party."

They blush, an expression that Yami and the Spirit of the Ring would have never worn at the price of their lives.

It's then that Honda spies the boys from that haunting afternoon in the showers enter the gymnasium. He elbows Jounouchi, who protests before he too notices what has caught Honda's attention. The new arrivals scan the room before settling at a table in the corner and setting their gazes on the dance floor. A few seconds later, they share a predatorily grin that doesn't sit well with Honda. He follows their gaze and isn't surprised to find himself staring at Anzu and Otogi. They're by far the best couple of the dance and Honda finds himself impressed by their synchronization. He's pretty sure they never rehearsed.

One of the boys stands and disappears into the crowd. Honda follows him, cursing their luck. They couldn't even spend one calm night, and though he can't blame Otogi for that he's strangely bitter about the fact that it's not even the girl of the group that they're stuck keeping an eye on.

Honda loses the guy in the crowd. Anzu and Otogi are still dancing and he doubts anyone will make a move against them in the middle of the dance floor. Thinking that a drink will settle his nerves, Honda cuts through the room to the buffet table where the traditional bowl of punch – spiked at midnight exactly – sits.

"I think she's the only one who hasn't fallen for him yet."

His head almost whips up at the voice but he ignores the words. People's private issues aren't his problem.

"I doubt she will," another voice replies. The music is low enough on this side of the room that Honda recognizes the inflections to be female. "He's much easier to get into bed than her. Besides, she's too stuck-up to let him do something like that."

A laugh. "I bet he's too used for her taste."

The students go wild when a popular song blasts through the speakers. Honda sips at his punch and tries to forget the conversation he just overheard. Gossip was never much interesting to him and high-school gossip is usually much worse than the possible truth.

"Anzu is lucky, though. She gets to be with him everyday."

Honda chokes on his drink. His hacking is lost in the uproar of the crowd and, once he's recovered, he carefully turns his head towards the corner. Two girls that he can safely call pretty are leaning against the wall in frilly little dresses that look designed for dolls.

Now Honda no longer ignores them – because his friends are his problem.

"You don't need him, Mei-chan. He's just another guy under the make up. And men are all pigs."

"You could at least wait until I can't hear you," Honda says, almost satisfied with the surprise on the girls' faces. But the unhealthy amount of wickedness he sees in their eyes is unexpected.

"Does it matter?" one of them asks. "I bet you're more concerned for dear Otogi than for Anzu's honor."

It's true, but only because he knows Anzu can take care of herself.

"What's your problem?" he asks, aggravated now because even the girls are a potential danger.

The one called Mei shrugs and jauntily pushes her hair from her shoulders. Honda recognizes her: she is one of Otogi's most prominent fan girls. She must have taken his arrival with Anzu hard.

Her friend cocks her head to the side innocently. "Why do you care, Honda-kun? Do you take her to bed? Or better yet. Do you take him?"

Honda has to remind himself that he does not punch women. The plastic cup in his hand cracks and he throws it in the nearest bin, trying to resist replying to the provocation. He sees Anzu lead Otogi away from the dance floor and he has to smile at her excitement. It was really a good idea to get these two to come together.

Unfortunately, Anzu is heading in their direction now. Honda's shoulders tense but he keeps a smile on his face so that she won't suspect his discomfort. The girls behind him have fallen silent but he can feel their eyes on the back of his head.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks when Anzu is close enough to hear him.

She bobs her head up and down, a grin threatening to rip her face in half. "I don't know who I have to thank for this."

Honda shrugs. "You would have danced with him whether he invited you or not. We just… gave you a push."

Anzu fills two cups with meticulous care. Honda glares at the girls over her shoulder, threatening them to make a single comment.

They don't heed his warning.

"Is he good, Anzu-san? Or don't you know yet?"

Anzu freezes, the cup almost slipping from her grip. Honda comes to her rescue, saving her dress from an unfortunate visit to the dry-cleaner.

"Excuse me?" she hisses, her voice a mix of incredulity and fury.

Mei crosses her arms and lets her friend speak for her. "It's funny that you would be the one he invites when you barely spend time with him. Some of us have been waiting for this opportunity for months."

What opportunity? Honda wants to ask. Are these girls really discussing getting into Otogi's bed with his friends?

"That's it," he exclaims. "If I hear one more word out of you, I'll let Otogi himself give you an earful."

Mei's eyes widen but her friend could care less. "You'd break his heart," she drawls. "You don't want him to know that everyone thinks he's a manwhore."

Honda hears Anzu gasp in shock. He barely registers the word himself. He knows, of course, that Otogi has an infamous reputation and he admits, with a little bit of guilt, that he hadn't wanted him anywhere near Anzu in the early days. But he would have never guessed that the situation was so serious. How can people take casual flirting, though a bit excessive, and turn it into… into… Honda can't find the right term. Prostitution?

The sound of the slap echoes above the roaring music. They've attracted a few stares now but Anzu doesn't care. Her hand stings but the other girl's wide eyes are compensation enough.

"How dare you," Anzu hisses, blood boiling. Her eyes sting with tears, because Otogi doesn't deserve this. These girls follow him every day with cute remarks and happy smiles, and it would break him if he knew just how little they thought of him. It would break him to think that even his admirers only wanted _that_ from him.

"Reina-chan," Mei tries.

Her friend ignores her. Her face has gone frigid. "You don't believe me?" A smirk plays on her lips. "He won't keep you for long if you don't offer. Even now, he's already left."

Honda startles. He searches the room but Reina is right – Otogi is nowhere in sight. He meets Jounouchi's gaze across the dance floor. The blond inclines his head to the spot where the two boys from the gym were sitting.

They're both gone.

Honda panics. He whirls around, trying to locate Otogi, in vain. He turns back to the girls but Reina is much too smug to be aware of the truth of her words and Mei is too attached to Otogi to wish that on him.

Anzu has already left.

She doesn't know this part of the school too well. She always escapes the gymnasium as soon as PE is over and now she's paying the price for that – Otogi is paying the price for that. She can barely navigate the set of hallways, her heart beating so hard that she thinks it will rip through her ribcage. Her long tail is also an inconvenience, and so she barely cares when it rips under her heels.

Why is she even running? She should have waited for her friends, she realizes. Even if she finds Otogi, she wouldn't be able to help him if he needed it. She runs nonetheless, because she promised herself she would help him. Because his smile was too beautiful tonight for her to allow anyone to ruin this for him.

She doesn't know that she is already too late.

* * *

**Endnotes:** Feel free to comment with your thoughts. And stay tuned for Part Two.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Pretty Wonderings

**Author:** SecretlyAnonymous04

**Summary:** Otogi is pretty, say most of the girls. He also has two scars on his left cheek that they whisper about when he can't hear them. Anzu tries to ignore all of this but is soon forced to realize that this is what Otogi is all about – the scars under the pretty face.

**Warnings:** Sexual assault and aftermath.

**Timeline:** A few months after Otogi's arc.

**Author's note:** Here is the second and final part of this story. I'd like to thank all of you who gave it a chance and read it. I hope you appreciated it. And to the Guest who reviewed, a special thank you is in order, because after I saw your review I most assuredly had a great day.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

* * *

_Previously_

_Honda startles. He searches the room but Reina is right – Otogi is nowhere in sight. He meets Jounouchi's gaze across the dance floor. The blond inclines his head to the spot where the two boys from the gym were sitting._

_They're both gone._

_Honda panics. He whirls around, trying to locate Otogi, in vain. He turns back to the girls but Reina is much too smug to be aware of the truth of her words and Mei is too attached to Otogi to wish that on him._

_Anzu has already left._

_She doesn't know this part of the school too well. She always escapes the gymnasium as soon as PE is over and now she's paying the price for that – Otogi is paying the price for that. She can barely navigate the set of hallways, her heart beating so hard that she thinks it will rip through her ribcage. Her long tail is also an inconvenience, and so she barely cares when it rips under her heels. _

_Why is she even running? She should have waited for her friends, she realizes. Even if she finds Otogi, she wouldn't be able to help him if he needed it. She runs nonetheless, because she promised herself she would help him. Because his smile was too beautiful tonight for her to allow anyone to ruin this for him._

_She doesn't know that she is already too late._

* * *

**Part Two of Two**

* * *

Otogi doesn't know how it came to this. He barely registers the feeling of hands around his waist as he leans over his car door to grab the rose he hid beneath the driver's seat. He startles at first and tries to escape, thinking Jounouchi is playing a bad joke on him. But the hands are insistent and one of them soon trails down to caress his thigh from behind. Otogi jerks forward as if electrocuted. His ribs hit the car door and he doubles over in an attempt to get himself free.

A disgusting purr resonates in his ears as a body leans over his. A hand slithers up his chest, through his open shirt, and grips his throat. Otogi loses control of his breathing and his chest starts heaving in panic. No one else is in the parking lot, especially since most of the students can't even drive. Otogi is all alone, as he always was, and despair sinks its claws into him.

"What do you want?" he manages to ask because he will not go down so easily.

The hand on his thigh raises his leg upwards. Otogi's breathing hitches and he momentarily slips away from his assailant. But a punch to his head sends stars flying across his vision and he falls back into the foreign grip, barely managing to stand on his own.

Both of his legs are raised over the car door and, once he's sitting on the edge, Otogi has regained himself enough to not budge any further. A sickening laugh behind him sends a shiver down his spine but he refuses to lay down and take this. He refuses.

An arm wraps around his waist, bringing him closer to the hard chest pressing against him. Fingers tangle in his ponytail and Otogi grunts when they pull him backwards until his head leans against a shoulder and his neck is exposed. Wet lips suck on his sensitive skin and Otogi raises a hand against his assailant, trying to push him away.

The door opens. Otogi is forced down but only his right side makes it inside the car. Hands heave him up and soon he is sitting in a male student's lap, his back pressed against the steering wheel and his legs spread open across the other's waist. The space between the seat and the wheel is so small his chest is practically glued to the stranger's body.

He recognizes his assailant from that day at the gym showers, Otogi thinks. He never thought anything would come out of it, because people have always looked at him and never followed on their intentions. Most people, at least. But here he is, here is reality, and it seems he cannot escape it. But maybe, maybe this time it won't be the same. Maybe this time someone will come for him.

"You're very pretty, Otogi-kun," the boy – Haruto – whispers. He trails his fingers through Otogi's bangs and rests his thumb near his eye where the mascara runs a tear down his cheek. "Don't worry, we won't be interrupted. Aki is guarding the doors. I promised I'll let him have a turn if he does me this favor."

Otogi's hopes are all dashed in an instant.

He turns his face away, still feeling hazy from the blow to his head. He raises a hand to push Haruto away, but his effort is laughable. The other boy is much stronger than him and paralysis is rapidly overtaking Otogi's limbs.

Haruto delicately grasps Otogi's wrists in one hand and puts the second behind his head to pull him into a kiss. Otogi struggles, trying to wriggle out of the strong grip, but he knows it is futile. Haruto bites on his lips and his groan of pain is swallowed by the invading tongue. Otogi's eyes widen when he feels hips rocking into his and panic spikes through him. This is real. This is happening to him.

He blinks and pushes his fists into Haruto's stomach. Winded, the boy lets him go but punches his jaw so that Otogi's head lands on the passenger's seat. With his free hands, Otogi tries to push himself away, but he's not fast enough. Haruto turns his body to face him properly and Otogi finds himself laying awkwardly across the two front seats with the driving stick digging into his right hip.

"You shouldn't have done that," Haruto breathes into his ear. He's so close Otogi can smell the sweat on him. "Now this won't be fun for you."

Otogi sees him taking off his belt, feels the leather wrapping around his wrists but doesn't begin to struggle until the other end is wrapped around the passenger's armrest. His fearful eyes lock onto Haruto's figure now straddling him and he forces his mind not to superpose another image above this. It's all too real, too familiar, too-

Please no, he wants to beg. But he doesn't have the right to beg, not until he's given permission.

His wrists are bound too tightly and promptly start to bleed. Otogi has to stop struggling if he doesn't want to add a new array of scars to his already existing ones. Crimson droplets land on the cream colored seats and he idly thinks he'll have to buy a new car after this.

Haruto kisses him again. Otogi sobs into his mouth and pulls on the belt restraining him. When the kiss is broken, he struggles for breath then winces in pain when Haruto finds his ponytail and pulls downward. His disgusting lips fall on Otogi's exposed throat, and he buries his face there, nipping, licking and biting until Otogi's back arches as he feels his soul rip out of his body.

"Stop," he whispers in a harsh breathy exhale.

A laugh ripples over his skin. Otogi clenches his eyes shut, flinching at every brush of lips and tongue over his throat. He doesn't want this. He never wanted it. He cannot bear to feel another body atop his, cannot bear feeling trapped and used. Cold fingers slip beneath his white shirt and Otogi gasps, bucking up only to meet Haruto's unwavering chest. The leather belt chaffs against his wrists, and Otogi finds himself back _there_, with ropes holding him down, and those mad eyes trained on him.

"Do you like it, Otogi-kun?" Haruto whispers as he licks his earlobe. "You're so hot. I knew you were good at this, but… this is even more than I expected."

Otogi doesn't have to take this. He pushes his elbows against Haruto's head but the blow is too light. His assailant clutches his hip more forcefully and raises his head to meet his gaze.

Haruto smiles at the wide green eyes. "I'm glad I didn't waste my time with one of the girls, tonight," he says, smoothing Otogi's wild hair away from his face before passing a finger over his bloody lips. Otogi's breath hitches. With a thoughtful look, Haruto trails his fingers down Otogi's face till they reach the die hanging from his ear. Haruto drags it torturously across Otogi's cheek and presses it against his lips. Otogi can feel his heart crack in two. He shakes his head in denial but Haruto doesn't give up, and soon the cold die is forced inside Otogi's mouth before he is kissed again, the tug on his ear becoming painful. Haruto's tongue pushes the dice deeper down Otogi's throat until he gags and arches off the seats, praying to any deity that will listen to save him.

Haruto smiles against his lips and uses his teeth to drag the die out. Otogi whimpers and coughs, his body trembling all over.

"Please, stop," he tries again. "This… isn't right."

It doesn't matter. Begging never worked in his favor.

Fingers unbutton his shirt, slowly, sensually. Otogi's eyes sting with unshed tears. He knows this is partially his fault. He'd laid it on too thick, the charm, the smiles, the comments. He knows that some only consider him sexually, that others only see him for his beauty. He knows few ever see through his façade to reach his soul, to reach the black twist of emotions that constitute his broken life. He knows none make it past the color of his eyes and the make-up he's painted over his scars. Even those who pity him, who think they've figured him out, don't know the truth. Because Otogi hides it, guards it more closely than the world's gold.

Otogi is drenched in sin, so strongly that it's become an unescapable stench. Otogi has modeled his body for this, has built his persona for this, for the thrill and pleasure of others, for his own survival. But Otogi unwillingly crossed a line into a dark forbidden world where he is no longer master of his own body and that may have been his greatest mistake.

That may be why he is here now.

Haruto leaves Otogi's chest and brings his lips back to his face. He kisses Otogi's eyelids with a playful whisper of "such pretty eyes" and rubs their noses together. Otogi can barely take it, wondering how long the foreplay will last. He wants it to end so that he will finally be free. He wants it to never end because he knows what comes after this part.

Haruto must have a fetish, Otogi thinks, because his lips are back on his throat again. Otogi breathes through his ministrations and realizes this is how dying must feel like. He kicks his legs in a vain attempt to push his attacker off, wrestles against the belt holding his wrists back, to no avail. The space in the car is so small, restricted by the seats, the front board and the doors. Haruto takes pleasure in his struggle, in the pink blush that taints Otogi's cheeks, in the heaving of his lean chest. He fingers the leather necklaces hanging from Otogi's neck and twists them once, twice, three times, tightening them with a sick light in his eyes.

Otogi watches him in horror. The leather straps bite into his skin and he struggles wildly, refusing to die this way. Soon, his airways are caught off, the necklaces he'd thought would add to his charm firmly wrapped around his vulnerable throat. Of all the boys that could have attacked him tonight, it had to be a sadist.

Haruto's second hand finds Otogi's ponytail again and twirls it between grubby fingers. He leans back to allow Otogi's body to flay around in desperation. The emerald eyes are wide and terrified, the parted lips quivering so mesmerizingly, the body undulating like a musical string. He likes the contrast of black jacket and white shirt, likes the dark strike of mascara on Otogi's paling face.

"I understand why your Dad liked this so much," Haruto says.

Otogi's emerald eyes shatter.

Raw resignation and pain cross his face, a bitter mask slipping over his features. In this moment, in this place, it is another time and another man that he remembers. Old directives sink in and his body stills, his oxygen deprived brain falling back into the pattern easily.

Haruto doesn't want to accidently kill him, however, and soon relaxes his grip. Otogi barely remembers how to breathe, but he knows not to cry, not to plead, not to fight. He allows the foreign mouth to press against his again, allows the probing hands to breach the barrier of his clothes, to scratch his scarred back, to dive lower until-

When the first finger hooks around his waistband, emotion wakes again in Otogi. His back arches but Haruto shushes him gently, kissing his jaw to drive him down back into the car seats. Otogi's thoughts whirl in a desperate frenzy and the leather burns around his wrists. Something catches in his throat and he wishes he would choke on it. A hand slips beneath him and cups his ass, massaging it through the fabric of his pants. Haruto moans in appreciation. His hips roll, grinding against Otogi who freezes at the motion.

Haruto moves again, sending Otogi's head crashing against the door. His fingers squeeze Otogi's ass before he slips a hand inside the pants to find hot clammy flesh. Otogi abhors the contact but the fight dies instead of rekindling inside him. When he feels the fingers near his hole, when Haruto forces his legs open to settle between them then rubs against his private parts again, Otogi's body twitches weakly and he releases a frightful breath, a tortured exhale, a resigned puff of air.

His wrists sag in the leather restraint, his fingers uncurling and limp. His eyes glaze over as he stares at the darkened sky over Haruto's shoulder, wondering why not even a star will brighten this night for him. He feels the fabric slipping down his hips, feels Haruto cup his thighs, feels his legs being raised. He knows this routine, is more prepared for it than he thought he would be, more acceptant of his fate than any human being has any right to be.

He hears the zipper opening, feels a kiss on the corner of his mouth, but isn't aware of the tear that clears the mascara smudged on his cheek. For a moment, he focuses on Haruto's face and allows all the fear and pain to submerge him.

"I'll make it good for you," Haruto promises in his ear. "You're so delicious, Otogi-kun. I don't want our time together to end."

Otogi shivers and turns away. He wishes he weren't so pretty. He wishes he weren't alive. All he wanted tonight was to spend the party with a nice girl and his friends. Is that too selfish of him to ask after everything he's endured?

Otogi feels the hands around his hips hold him up and prepares for the inevitable. He thinks his soul will shatter from the pressure.

But nothing happens.

There's a dull sound that echoes above his head. Haruto nuzzles his throat again but doesn't move any further. Otogi blinks away clumps of dirt and coughs. What was happening?

"Oh my God, Otogi-kun."

Otogi vaguely recognizes the voice. Above him, the moon has made an appearance, a pale orb in the sky. Wait – that isn't the moon. It's Anzu face, livid with horror.

Otogi remembers where he is and the weight of Haruto's body on him registers in his mind. He pushes the boy away but his shaking limbs and bound arms aren't up to the task.

"Help me, Honda-kun. Move him away."

The driver's door opens at his feet and Haruto's body is unceremoniously dragged away. Otogi makes to rise but the leather belt chaffs against his wrists. Delicate hands grasp his forearms and Anzu's motherly tone calms his struggles. Otogi's heart hammers against his chest and unconsciousness pulls at him. His eyes roll in his head but a hand on his cheek brings him back to awareness.

"Got it," Honda murmurs.

As soon as the words reach Otogi's ears, he pulls himself up and almost crumbles in relief. He frantically makes his way out of the car, barely believing it when his feet find concrete. A hand lands on his shoulder and Otogi flinches with a cry of unnamed emotion. His shaking legs buckle and cave, dropping him to the ground.

"Otogi-kun!" Anzu calls in fright.

"Don't touch me," Otogi rasps, trying to crawl away though his bound hands hinder his movement. His pants rip where he rubs them against the ground. "Please, don't. Don't. Leave me alone."

He's ashamed of the sob that tears through his throat. His chest heaves and he presses his trembling arms around his abdomen, wishing for the ground to swallow him.

"Let me help you, Otogi-kun. Please?"

When Anzu grabs his hands, Otogi flinches but doesn't pull away. She deftly unbuckles the belt and throws it out of his line of sight. She tries to suppress a gasp at the state of his wrists but Otogi hears her. He stares at his blood with a blank stare. He wonders why it took so long for this to happen.

"Do you want me to help you with that?"

Anzu's voice is low and gentle, coaxing Otogi to follow her gaze to his open trousers. He rapidly covers himself but takes reassurance from her hand on his shoulder. Anzu looks away as he buttons up his pants then his shirt. With shaking fingers, Otogi rips the necklaces from his neck and throws them as far as he can. His flushed skin feels cold.

"Otogi-kun?"

He can't meet her eyes. He doesn't want her, or anyone, to see that this is the real him – the pretty little slut who's everyone's plaything. An anguished tear escapes his eye.

"Otogi-kun," Anzu insists, her tone still patient. "Let me help you up."

Otogi accepts only because he feels nauseous when she looms over him like that. His shaking legs can barely support his weight and he sags against the car, his bloody wrists dripping a scarlet river over the paint.

"We need to take him to a hospital," he hears Honda say.

"No," Otogi finds the strength to utter. He keeps his gaze on his feet, unable to stare his friends in the face. "No hospitals."

He can't go there. They'll smile at him like nothing happened, they'll ask insensitive questions about what did happen, and open his old files where all the answers lie.

"Leave him to me," Anzu whispers somewhere just at the edge of Otogi's hearing. "I'll take care of him."

They discuss him a few seconds longer. Otogi's vision blurs with each passing moment and when he regains himself he finds Honda holding him up. "Let me help you in," he offers.

Otogi nods dazedly. But when he turns to the car, he remembers all the touches and feels all the sticky traces left on his skin. Somewhere in the shadows of the parking lot, Haruto is waiting and he will pounce on him again and-

"The back-seat, Honda-kun," Anzu hisses.

Honda chuckles sheepishly and guides Otogi inside while Anzu sits behind the wheel. Otogi sits ramrod straight, unwilling to lie down and find himself back in that torturous position.

"You sure you don't need me?" Honda-kun asks as the engine roars.

"I need you to take care of everything here," Anzu replies.

"Then take care of Otogi-kun." He turns a firm reassuring stare on the tiring boy. "You're in good hands."

Otogi can't find the strength to reply.

Honda makes his way back to the building, Haruto in tow, to find Jounouchi pushing his heel against Aki's crumbled form. Honda throws the other boy next to his friend with disgust and sneers at them both.

"Did he…?" Jounouchi trails off.

Honda shakes his head. "I don't know. But he's not too smug about it," he kicks Haruto's chest and is rewarded with a pained grunt, "so we must have arrived in time."

Jounouchi nods. Then cracks his knuckles. His grin turns sadistic. "We have some time before we have to haul their asses to the station."

Honda matches his eager air. "Let's see how pretty _they_ look when we're done with them."

Otogi doesn't remember when Anzu pulled into the street. But soon, they're on the road and the fresh air whipping Otogi's face is a welcome distraction.

"Do you have a license?" he hears himself ask.

"Concessions are made in special occasions."

Otogi almost smirks but a sob tears out of his throat instead.

He doesn't know how much time passes before the car stops. Otogi raises his head and freezes. Here, tonight, the black clown is leering at him more viciously than ever before. Otogi recoils and vomits all over the creamy cushions. When he's aware of the world again, he feels Anzu's hand on his back, just like that day in the hospital restroom. That seems so far away now.

Otogi almost collapses when he leaves the car. Anzu steadies him and walks him away until he comes to a sudden stop. His mind flashes back to that horrible moment that started it all when he bends over the driver's door and plucks out the red rose he'd stashed under the seat. He can see tears in Anzu's eyes when he tiredly offers it, when she realizes that he went through this for her.

"Thank you for tonight, Anzu-san," he whispers raggedly. "I had a great time."

She's brave enough to muster a smile for his sake.

Anzu helps him to his apartment on the second floor. He immediately heads for the shower with a promise to call for her if he needs anything. The water is scalding hot against his skin and Otogi rubs away all the traces left behind by Haruto – all the kisses and whispers and licks. He's used to the physical aspect of this ordeal, used to the breath against his skin and the saliva all over his body. But the memories are as slimy as everything else and leave a more lasting taint on him.

He doesn't want to remember that this has happened before. He doesn't want to remember that this is why they moved the shop so regularly. He doesn't want to remember that he paid the price of each new house they moved into in the paternal bed. He doesn't want to remember that his pretty face – his lie – was his undoing.

Otogi leans against the shower wall and laughs at himself for ever thinking that he was finally free.

Anzu sits on the couch in the living room and drops her head in her hands. Her body is shaking with a surge of adrenaline that is only now dissipating. She can hear the sound of water hitting the tiles in the bathroom and has the sudden urge to go hug Otogi. She can't wipe out the haunting image of his body under Haruto's, looking so small against the bulky boy, his thin frame almost melting into the seat cushions. She can still see his lips disappearing beneath his assailant's demanding mouth, can still see the glassy quality to his eyes, can still see his fragile wrists bound by harsh leather spasming above his head with the suppressed desire to escape.

Anzu can still see the hopelessness, the abandon, and sobs into her hands for a boy whose innocence she hasn't saved tonight.

When Otogi finally steps into the living room, Anzu has collected herself and resolved to be strong for her friend. Otogi's mask is impeccable; he's still as handsome – she will never again use the word pretty on him – as he was earlier that night when he'd picked her up. She tries for a smile and something in her expression must have felt right because Otogi's lips quirk upwards. He drops his gaze and unconsciously scratches at his bandaged wrists where the skin has been rubbed raw. She doesn't comment on the red sheen covering his body or on the dark bruises layering his neck in violent contrast with his white shirt.

"I found salad in your fridge," Anzu says to break the silence. "I thought you might want to eat something."

She knows he will refuse, that even a salad won't sit well in his stomach, but she's still heartbroken when he shakes his head.

"I just want to sleep," he says, and his voice is a note away from breaking. He grimaces, as if he too has noticed, but doesn't falter. "You can go now."

Anzu's eyebrows rise in surprise. "Why would I?"

"I don't want to be a burden," Otogi replies uncomfortably. "The night isn't over yet. You can probably still make it to the after party."

He tries to summon his usual carefree smile but fails.

"Otogi-kun, I'm not leaving you alone here." Not in this house, she adds to herself. "Besides, Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun have taken Haruto and Aki to the precinct. I doubt Yugi-kun and Bakura-kun are still at the school."

His posture tenses at the names of the two students but he hides it well – were she not looking for a reaction, Anzu would have missed it.

"What happened?" he asks after a moment of hesitation. He's still standing by the door, as far away from her as he can be. "At the end. How did…?"

"I… I smashed a potted plant on his head." She blushes as she recalls her actions, trying not to dredge up the urgency of the situation. She wasn't sure but it looked like she was too late and it was anger and sorrow that drove her to take such radical action.

Otogi laughs, startling her. A hint of mirth dances in his darkened eyes, pulling up a smirk on Anzu's face. "I'm glad you're alright, Otogi-kun." She reevaluates the words at his expression and her heart clenches. "He didn't…?"

"No!" Otogi exclaims with more emotion than he's displayed all night. His hands shake and he clasps them together, in a nauseating mimicry of their state when she'd found him in the car. "No, you… you arrived on time."

Anzu swallows with difficulty and stands up. She makes a move towards him but his violent flinch dissuades her from approaching. Her mind is still processing the events of the night.

"Thank you," Otogi says quietly. His eyes are watery and his face is twisted with an emotion she doesn't recognize; it's a cross between hope, relief and confusion, as if he doesn't know why his prayers were answered. "Thank you for coming for me. I… I didn't think… No one ever…"

"You don't have to thank me," Anzu intervenes as he starts choking on his words. She can feel her heart pressing into a tight ball at the thought that Otogi can barely believe that someone would save him. Anzu herself can barely believe that someone never did.

"Do you mind if I stay here?" she asks, out of politeness only because she won't leave him alone tonight.

Otogi must read her determination in her eyes because he sighs and relents. "I'll show you to the bed."

Mei and Reina's words echo in the back of Anzu's mind and she clenches a fist in anger. Otogi observes her reaction carefully and slumps back against the wall, as if hoping to melt through it. "I didn't mean it… like that," he mutters.

Anzu's heart breaks. Is he truly so used to this that his first thought, even of her, is to make this clarification? Does he think she will leave if he doesn't offer? She wonders if Otogi keeps up the charade of the sexualized teenager because this is the behavior expected from him. She wonders if he already knows that everyone thinks him a manwhore.

"Of course. I know that, Otogi-kun," she says as steadily as she can. "But I can sleep on the couch. You probably need the bed more than me."

Otogi shakes his head. "I won't have a lady sleep on my couch. You'll take the bed."

"Otogi-kun, I can't-"

"Just take it," he interrupts. "Please." His voice cracks pitifully on the word and she can see the darkness claim him again.

"Alright," she finally agrees. "I'll take the bed. But please get some sleep."

When she reaches for his arm, he allows the contact. Anzu keeps it brief and gives him one last smile before entering the bedroom. She hesitates in the doorway then turns back to him. "I enjoyed our dance very much," she tells him. "I hope you'll agree to have another one soon. Thank you for taking me to the party, Otogi-kun."

She closes the door on his stunned face but not before hearing him whisper a worshipping "thank you".

Anzu sags against the door. She has no change of clothes and she doesn't want to bother Otogi with something so trivial tonight. The bed is made, the sheets a royal blue color that she wouldn't have associated with the frivolous boy sleeping in them. They are soft when Anzu slides under them and she feels herself relax in their warmth.

She releases a bitter laugh. The girls were right after all – she is in Otogi's bed tonight.

Her eyes roam over the room, suddenly realizing that she's inside Otogi's house for the first time. The bedroom is typical of a teenager his age, with an extra stack of files and business papers on the desk. From the window, she can see Yugi's house where the light is still on in his bedroom. Dragging her gaze back inside, Anzu shifts until she's found a comfortable position on her side and sighs. The bedpost catches her eye. A ring of splinters decorates it like a cheap ornament and her blood runs cold at the first idea that comes to her mind. She rolls around to find the same pattern on the second post where additional red streaks permanently taint the wood. Anzu sits up in horror, suddenly realizing why Otogi didn't want to sleep here – not tonight.

Anzu leaves the bed and stumbles back into the dresser. With wide eyes, she imagines Otogi lying here, his emerald eyes empty and his lips parted in heavy pants, Haruto leaning over him with an animalistic growl. Anzu shakes her head to dissipate the image, barely stifling a sob behind her fingers.

The light is still on in the living room. It's only now that she hears Otogi's muffled sobs.

The next day, Anzu wakes to the sun shining brightly in her eyes. She groans, clutching at her aching head, and wonders why she was sleeping in a chair. The sight of her dress finally registers in her mind and the events of the night violently come back to her. She surges upwards and leaves the room, hoping to find Otogi on the couch. Her heart drops when she discovers that the living room is empty. A sound catches her ear and she tracks it to the bathroom. The door is left ajar but she doesn't dare peek in.

"Otogi-kun?" she calls.

Something clatters to the ground. Surprised and worried, Anzu pushes the door open and freezes in the doorway. Otogi is staring at her, a brush and a bottle of face powder in hand. The mascara tube rolls to her feet on the white tiles. But it's Otogi who has Anzu's undivided attention. His face is a mess of white angry lines, of horrible scars that tear through his skin while sticking far enough away from his eyes and nose to remain inconspicuous under heavy layers of make-up. A particular red line slashes down his left cheek right where the mascara usually draws a tear.

Anzu thought that Otogi had two scars on his left cheek. She discovers that day that Otogi allows people to see only those two scars on his left cheek.

"Anzu-san," he begins shakily, trying and failing at smiling. "I thought you'd still be asleep."

"Otogi-kun," Anzu breathes, still shocked at the sight of him. This is not the charming suave boy she's used to. This is the boy who's struggling to hide beneath the façade. She recalls Hinata's words in the bathroom, how the girl wished that Otogi would hide his scars behind make-up, and Anzu wishes Hinata could see him now.

She advances slowly and Otogi only takes one step back. He allows her to slide the powder out of his hand and sags in defeat as she places it on the counter behind her.

"I guess that's not a secret anymore," he says, a hint of his usual confidence in his tone.

But everything is still a secret. He doesn't want to describe to her how cold the knife felt against his cheek, how hard the nails dug through his skin. He doesn't want to tell her that _he_ wanted Otogi to trace mascara down the red scar so that _he_ could lick it away and dig into the wound again each night. He doesn't want to tell her that he still puts on the mascara because, when he wakes up in the morning, he's reassured by the sight of it, smudged only by sleep and not by a carefully placed lick.

Anzu cocks her head to the side and gazes sadly at him. Otogi feels insignificant and inadequate under her gaze now that his truth has been exposed. His opens his mouth to resolve the situation with suave words and carefully crafted excuses. Instead, his lips quiver and his mask finally cracks. A second later, Anzu wraps her arms around him as he breaks down, sobbing unrestrained against her shoulder, his pain so strong she almost falls under its weight. His body is wracked with harsh breaths but Anzu doesn't slacken her grip, putting all her strength in her hold to provide him with the safety he needs. Everything bleeds out of him – the previous night, the last few years of torture, the grief for an innocence he was forced to shed too harshly. She doesn't know for how long they stand there before Otogi starts slipping to the ground in exhaustion. Anzu follows him down, still holding on to him, and rubs his back as he tries to suppress his cries.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" she asks later when his tears have subsided.

A beat passes before he weakly nods his head. She follows his gaze to the sink and finds the tubes of powder and mascara. Anzu stands up, brushes her skirt, scoops up the make-up and throws everything in the bin. Otogi's eyes are round when they fall on her but quickly dart away. His silky strands fall across his face, partially hiding the scars running across his forehead.

Anzu crouches in front of him.

"Otogi-kun." She waits for him to look up. "There's nothing shameful about the scars."

The next day, the school falls into uproar when Otogi steps in with Anzu at his side. The events of the night of the Ball have spread, of course, and the rumors are, again, worse than the actual truth. But what has the students so stricken is the red scar tracing a tear down Otogi's cheek, unmasked by the usual mascara.

Mei is the first to hurry to him as he opens his locker. "Otogi-kun! I heard what happened. It's so terrible! Are you alright?"

Anzu glares at her. Of course, he isn't alright. But Otogi puts on an easy smile and she has to admire his performance.

"I'm glad you care, Mei-san," he replies. "It's good to know who my real friends are at times like these."

Mei blanches and catches Anzu's smug smile. Her eyebrows furrow and her posture suddenly shifts into a defensive stance. "I'm only worried about you, Otogi-kun. People have been talking…"

"It's nothing new, Mei-san," Otogi affirms as he checks his appearance in the small mirror hanging at the back of his locker. He doesn't need to – Anzu knows how long it took him to leave the bathroom this morning.

Mei falters, grasping at anything to not leave. "What about…?" she trails off, her fingers hovering above her own cheek.

Otogi glances at her. "Oh, that," he says as if he hasn't already guessed her meaning. "It's nothing new too."

Mei splutters, her curiosity battling against etiquette. Just then, Hinata and Yuna come strolling down the hallway and the group of students now surrounding Otogi with hushed whispers attract their attention. Hinata's hand goes to her heart when she sees his face. "Oh my god, Otogi-kun, what happened to your face?"

Anzu almost intervenes but Otogi simply twirls a strand of hair around his index finger and lowers his eyelids seductively. "Is it no longer as pretty as yesterday?" he asks, his tone taking on a dangerous edge.

Hinata falls silent but, at her side, Yuna smiles honestly. "I don't think anything can ruin you, Otogi-kun."

Otogi seems surprised for the first time since they've stepped into the building but he quickly regains his bearings. "That's nice of you to say, Yuna-san."

Anzu is surprised that he has all their names memorized while she could barely recognize them after years of attending the same school. After only months here, Otogi has acquainted himself with so many people only because of his appearance that it breaks Anzu's heart all over again. As his so-called friend, she should have seen the signs much earlier. But it had taken difficult moments shared with all these people for her to learn the first thing about Otogi – he hates his pretty face much more than anyone else.

"Anzu-san! Otogi-kun!"

Yugi is barely visible behind the human barrier enclosing Otogi and Anzu. But his voice rings distinctly between the hushed whispers and judging snickers. The sight of her friend is refreshing and Anzu walks towards him with a happy smile. "Good morning, Yugi-kun. I take it Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun have yet to arrive."

Yugi bobs his spiky head up and down adorably. Anzu almost pets him but refrains. Yugi's eyes bypass her and find Otogi in the middle of the crowd of fan girls.

"Otogi-kun, how are you feeling today?" he asks.

Anzu expects Otogi's face to close off but, instead, his eyes sparkle. "Better, Yugi-kun, thank you for asking."

Yugi's cheerfulness is contagious and soon the crowd of overbearing girls dissipates and leaves only a few stragglers who are truly concerned for the boy they call their friend.

"Is there anything we can do, Otogi-kun?" one asks with worried eyes.

But Otogi shakes his head and that's the only answer they need to finally leave the trio alone. Yugi looks up at both of his friends, then his eyes latch onto the crimson scar on Otogi's face. All the other marks are hidden again, because Anzu cannot decently expect Otogi to walk around town with such marks. It's a burden he'll have to bear for the rest of his life but now Anzu, and the rest of their friends, are here to help shoulder it.

Yugi, bless his innocent soul, doesn't comment on the new addition to his friend's face. He takes a hesitant step towards Otogi and pulls at his jacket. "I hope you know who your real friends really are, Otogi-kun. And that they'll always be here for you."

Otogi looks ready to cry but smiles shakily instead. Yugi nods and his eyes light up again. "Anyone up for a duel before class starts?"

Anzu rolls her eyes. "I bet that's why Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun are always late."

Yugi blushes and ducks his face. Otogi's clear laugh, however, is enough for him to look up. "I'll play with you, Yugi-kun," he offers. "But you'll have to take it easy on me. I'm too sleepy to count life points."

"That's alright," Yugi assures. "As long as we're having a good time."

They walk to class together, soon joined by the other two boys. Bakura drops by after his first class and they decide to hold a small tournament among themselves during the lunch break.

Anzu and Honda sit beneath a tree as they watch their friends duel. The wind is fresh against their faces and the sun fighting for dominance with grey clouds.

Otogi now has three scars on his left cheek.

"We'll be fine," Honda says.

Anzu twirls Otogi's red rose in her hand, unafraid of the thorns hiding behind the pretty green leaves.

"We will," she agrees.

Otogi also has a roll of pictures in his pocket now, painting the smiling faces of his friends in a small photo booth where he spent the happiest moments of his darkest night.

* * *

**Endnote:** Again, thank you for reading! I hope the way the fic was resolved was satisfactory. I was mostly trying to give Otogi's character proper appreciation against all the shallow way his character is handled, and I hope I was successful.

Till next time!


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